


Don't beam up the dragon

by Ninja Assistant (DFchan)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Crack Crossover, Crossover mashup, Gen, Multiple Crossovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-08-14 06:53:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8002627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DFchan/pseuds/Ninja%20Assistant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>... or they might kill your captain, while their agent blogger are trying to get the wizard to bugger off.</p><p>What.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my god, this is not the way to introduce myself into the archive. I literally wrote it in 3 hours as soon as the idea hit me, and now I am posting it *hysterical chuckle*.  
> Sorry for any mistakes, I am not a native speaker and there is no beta.

“John! Where is it?”

John took a moment to contemplate if it is safe to drink from the tea that was disposed on a coffee table, but shrugged, deciding that if he was going to end up dead, Sherlock will avenge him. Probably. Most likely. With that somewhat satisfying thought, he took a big sip of his perfectly done tea, and huddled deeper into his green bathrobe.

“ John! JOHN! I can’t find it, where is it?!”

The whirlwind that was his crazy flatmate stormed into the living room, his straight hair disheveled and red cape askew over his black turtleneck, as he stomped around barefoot and clad in his striped pale blue pajama bottoms and rummaged around on the shelves.

“I have absolutely no idea what are you talking about.” John, hummed, as uninterested as possible, steadily ignoring the dangerous flashing of his flatmates eyes and steam gently rising out of his nostrils, while turning the next page of the newspaper.

“Oh, don’t play even more stupid than you usually do John, it’s unbecoming and moronic even for you.” Sherlock gestured avidly, strongly resembling a tantruming child, with that ridiculous red cape of his. “I know you took it, and I know that Lestrade put you up to it! I told him to stop interfering!”

“Lestrade has nothing to do with it. I think he hasn’t returned from his trip with Neffy.” John scratched at his pointy ear in thought. “Good for him actually after all that mess with the masked guy.”

“Ugh.” Was the only opinion Sherlock expressed about that, while he continued to turn the living room upside down, adding to the already spectacular mess residing there.

“And anyway, why do you think it was me that did whatever is that you think I did? It could be Mrs Hudson or even Mycroft, you know he loves to drop by. Especially when we are not at home.”

John thought that he didn’t deserve **_the look_** Sherlock gave him. The look that is usually reserved to the rest of earth population, whenever they opened their mouths.

“Well, what? That could happen, you know.” John said defensively. Sherlock stood up in his full height, adopting his I’m-going-to-humour-you-and-explain-my-intellectual-genius-so-you-mere-mortal-better-listen face, which frankly looked more like a face of a deranged superhuman psycho intent who was planning to blow something up.

“Forgetting the fact, that Mrs Hudson is currently with her drinking buddies on a chain bank heists ‘trip’, and that Mycroft is too busy killing people and making Doctors cry, I can concur that yes, it has a probability to happen. Approximately 23.005% chance of Mrs Hudson returning early with her loot, but there is also a 19.034% chance of her being betrayed and left behind and/or killed by her ‘gang’, a 48.87006% chance of her being caught and arrested. Mycroft on the other hand is too busy licking all his fingers while they are still in his favourite proverbal ‘pies’, making wars happen, making them not happen, playing spies and all that political rubbish of his.” Sherlock took a moment to scrunch his face just **_so_** to summorise his profoundal dislike of his brother and his tendency to get into everything, before his face smoothed out again and his ever changing pale eyes narrowed at John, and the shorter male could practically _see_ the deductions happening at a dizzying speed behind them.

“You had an early shift this morning, and judging by the scuffing of your shoes in the hallway and a light bruise in shape of fingers on your forearm, you had encountered a physical attack, but not serious enough, because there is no additional bruising anywhere. Judging by the traces of sweat on your forehead and amount of gel in your hair, it was stressful enough and there was a struggle, but it was quickly subdued, and after you fixed your hair, though not in your usual way, so I am guessing you didn’t have a mirror or reflective surface nearby. So, not enough time to step away to do so. Why? Because the man, and yes, it was a man, statistically more likely and according to the shape of bruises, was a case that needed an immediate dealing with. But why would he attack you? Easily provoked? But you do not have a habit of unnecessary provocation, so no. Instability? Mental? Most likely. So an unstable man, was brought in, most likely by a concerned friend, who had helped stop the man when he had attacked you and someone else. Though he attacked someone else first, then you intervened, because there is a fiber of fabric under three of your fingernails, so you had grabbed him to get his attention. And considering that you wouldn’t have intervened if it was not serious… ah yes. The man attacked a female, that’s why you acted fast and the friend helped almost instantly. Most likely after that, you had to restrain the man, and had an unpleasant talk with the friend, you had to deliver bad news, because you were unable to help the man, and you feel slightly guilty. The men were close to each other like brothers and that invoked your brotherly feelings. You checked your phone several times, frowning, most likely waiting for a message from your sister, since you messaged her an hour ago, and you are thinking its pointless, since she won’t answer, hence putting your phone on the desk instead of the coffee table, which is closer.”

John, who had lowered down his newspaper somewhere in the middle of Sherlock talking, couldn’t help an amazed look that obviously settled on his face, since Sherlock straightened up proudly.

“That… was brilliant.” John blinked, before smiling slightly. “But actually, I intervened because the woman was ready to jump on his neck and bash his head in, and I didn’t need her killing him right there.”

Sherlock frowned, his there-is-always-something-missing frown, and grumbled, before looking at John again.

“But this is not the reason you hid it, no. You were tired and irritated when you headed home, you had to take the Tube again, because there was not enough cash on you-“

“Wait, how did you… I knew it was you who took the money!”

“Borrowed. Irrelevant. You got home by Tube, and you returned later than usual, so something had happened when you got off… Something…” Sherlock’s eyes practically light up on John’s bathrobe and slippers. “Aha! Your old bathrobe and slippers, that you usually get when you feel nostalgic and reminiscing about your travels. Ugh, sentiment. But nevertheless, something had triggered the nostalgia, something from the past. Someone. Most likely, someone connected to your family, hence, the questions about family, specifically your mother, addressed to Harry, who is more in contact with them.” John didn’t even notice when Sherlock took his phone and read the message. “Some old friend of your mother who caught you when you were returning home, asking for a favour and reminding you of your adventurous days.”

Sherlock suddenly stepped too close towards John, sniffing the air around him like a bloodhound, making John jerk back in surprise.

“Hm, Old Toby, dust and earth, no, not earth, its stone-“

John tensed slightly, when Sherlock paused and loomed over him, his eyes practically slits.

“Dwarvesssss.” The dark-haired man hissed. “John, did you give the Arkenstone to **_dwarves_**?!” Sherlock exploded.

“Yes! Okay, yes I did!” shouted John, throwing up his hands. “Sherlock, it’s just a fucking glowing piece of rock!”

“IT ISSS MINE!”

“Sherlock, you just lug it around in your robe and talk to it! You abandoned your skull for this lump of stone!”

“And this is the reason to give it to **_DWARVES_**?!”

“At least they have a good reason to have it, it actually will help him get their kingdom back!”

“ ** _DWARVES_** JOHN!”

A familiar bell-like chimes filled the air.

“Wha- wait Sherlock! God damn it, don’t you dare go chasing them, they are under protection of Starfleet- Sherlock! Don’t you dare finish this ‘beam up’!”

But it was late, Sherlock’s scowl disappeared in a shower of atoms and energy, leaving John alone to collapse back into his armchair.

Two peeps, alerted him of the mice that delivered another cup of tea.

“Oh, bugger off.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was terrible fandom-ing. But nevertheless. *shrugs*  
> I think I made everything clear, but still.  
> Mentioned (in no particular order):  
> The Hobbit.  
> Star Trek: Into the Darkness.  
> Hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy.  
> Doctor Who.  
> Captain America: Civil War.  
> Doctor Strange.  
> Golden Years.  
> V for Vendetta.  
> Mark Gatiss in general. (just take a look at his filmography)


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this part was actually an after thought. ;D

“John.”

John blinked up at the ceiling of their living room, feeling strangely sluggish and very confused. It took a moment to register that Sherlock had talked to him. His body wasn’t thankful to him for his impromptu nap on the sofa, and he felt every creak and painful tingle, as he turned his head to look at his flatmate on the floor.

“You were talking in your sleep.” Sherlock informed him gravely through his steepled fingers, sitting in his favourite pyjamas and bathrobe in the middle of the floor, surrounded by what seems to be the content of an entire bookstore.

John blinked at the assorted piles of books, comics and even video cases. There was a book  with a drawing of a dragon on its page opened on Sherlock’s lap, and what seems to be an old Star Trek movie playing on the telly. Various opened books and comics were spread open in front of Sherlock in a semi-circle, and John wondered sleepily if Sherlock was reading all of them at the same time.

When everything finally registered, John looked at Sherlock bemusedly.

“Are you reading through decades worth of pop culture? Do not tell me that you got tired of not getting the references?”

Sherlock scowled at his amusement.

“This is for a case. Two weeks ago young male was found murdered by someone dressed up as a fictional hero according to the witnesses. Four days later another victim, the same with the killer. After that, another two, and the last one was found yesterday, and was killed by a fictional character known as ‘Red Skull’. Lestrade kept it under wraps, until they discovered that prior to the murder all victims were threatened by different quotes from books, movies and other. I am trying to gather enough data to understand how exactly he chooses the victims and the choice of the costume to perform the murder.”

“Aaaand you got irritated that everyone gets the references and you don’t.” John squinted at him.

The huffy silence and a dark glare were enough of an answer for him. John sat up with a groan, his shoulder and back aching terribly, before another thought occurred to him.

“Wait… were you reading this out loud?”

Despite the huffiness, there was a twinkle of amusement in Sherlock’s eyes.

“I decided not to let myself suffer alone, if I had to clutter my mind even temporarily with this rubbish. Also, your reactions to some texts and movies were most interesting.”

“Sherlock, how many times did I say to stop experimenting on me, especially when I am asleep and unaware!”

“It was your own fault you fell asleep after work on the sofa. But I am curious to know, did it affect your dreams or not? While your sleep-talk was barely coherent, there was some evidence that my reading was actively influencing your-“

“Don’t do it again.”John grumbled as he stood up and shuffled towards the kitchen, intent on making himself a cuppa to chase away the last memories of his weird dream.

**Author's Note:**

> Probably gonna make an art for the first chapter. Not sure yet. ;D
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
